Payback Doctors

And what, in the name of sweet sanity, is drama-therapy?

It's therapy through...drama?

I don't know.

It's a taster session for professionals.

Howard reckons we might want to think about

referring certain patients.

-I managed to wriggle out of that one.

-He asked you first?

Yeah. Sorry you got landed with it.

OK. I've got a scenario for you.

I am an out-of-work actor and I have a choice.

My agent says I can go and stand outside the health-food store

wearing a squirrel outfit handing out free Fairtrade nuts.

Or I can try and convince some gullible person

like Howard Bellamy that acting has got something to do with therapy.

Now, which would I choose?!

I'd take the squirrel gig.

So would I, cos you'd get free nuts!

Talking of drama, I'm due at the police station. Have fun!

You think it's a load of old nonsense?

And you don't?

I suppose... Should I try and get out of it?

Absolutely. You stay here and see patients.

I'll go to the group and act like I'm a tree.

I'm kidding! It's a skive.

Grab that with both hands!

-Doug!

-Hi there!

-How are you doing?

-Fine.

More to the point, how are you?

This is what comes of skipping breakfast.

Touch of stage fright?

I haven't felt this nervous since I played Hamlet

to some school kids in Brooklyn.

I bet they loved it.

To be honest, they thought he was a bit of a wimp!

Thanks, Ollie. For coming...and the rest.

Not at all. I'm here to learn.

I'm looking forward to it.

Hiya.

I'm Niamh.

Alison.

So, which kind of tree are you?

-Tree?

-Guess mine. OK...

SHE SOBS

Come on, it's easy.

SHE SOBS

-Weeping willow?

-Well done, that man!

-Oh, you're...?

-Yup! I'm Doug!

-I'm Alison.

-Hiya.

I didn't mean to make fun.

Nothing wrong with fun. That was a great tree!

Morning, everyone, and welcome to this drama-therapy taster workshop.

I'm such an idiot.

Niamh Donoghue, GP, if you can believe that.

Oliver Clarke, Clinical Psychologist. And don't worry,

I think you've made quite a first impression.

I'm Doug Heatherton, as you've probably gathered.

I'd like to clear up one popular misconception.

I'm not an out-of-work actor...

Well, I was, but that's rather a painful story!

Seriously, I've retrained as a drama-therapist.

I'm not in any way biding my time.

You played Harry Carstairs in At Her Majesty's Service.

The James Bond film?

It's a totally different title.

And, anyway, this one was about tax inspectors.

Moving on! Well-researched, though, Alice.

Alison.

Come on in, grab a seat.

There you go. Sorry it's not a bit more comfy!

Who are you?

Doctor Clay. Thank you. Thanks, we'll be OK.

Right, er....

Do you know where you are?

Letherbridge police station.

-Do you remember being pulled over by the police?

-No.

You have been arrested for driving under the influence of alcohol.

So I have to assess you, to see if you're fit to be interviewed.

Do you understand?

Who did you say you were?

Doctor Clay.

And your name is?

It's, uh...

It won't come to me...

I can't stop my hands shaking.

It's OK.

Drama-therapy is about using drama techniques

to help people understand themselves in new ways.

Can I ask you to all find a space, please?

It's OK, I'm not going to ask you to perform.

Just giving you some play space.

Cos, think about it,

children often re-enact through play.

Though they may not realise it, they quite literally play stuff out.

Turning it into a game, in other words a drama,

gives them some control over events and their outcomes.

So...can I ask you all to walk around for starters?

It doesn't matter which direction.

If you see someone coming towards you, say hi!

Introduce yourselves. Why not?

That's great.

In a moment, I'll shout "stop" and ask you to do something different.

Doug?

Did you ever play a Norman soldier in a film?

Only, I wasn't sure it was you, because of the helmet.

I may have done. But that's all in the past.

You must remember.

I'd much rather you asked me about drama-therapy.

You had a line, "My Lord, the castle is taken."

Now I come to think of it, you're absolutely right.

Stop walking.

The floor is yours. Total freedom.

That's the idea. Great.

I wanted to dance when I was a kid. Never got lessons, though.

Oh, that's a pity. You're doing it now, though.

Making up for lost time.

NIAMH GIGGLES

OK, OK, what's so funny?

You, Prince Charles.

Thanks very much.

I just mean with the hands behind your back.

Well, we can't all have your sylph-like grace.

Sylph-like grace? That's a first!

Good. I'm original, then, if nothing else.

That's great. Thanks, everyone!

Quick breather and then one more exercise.

Could you spell the word "world" for me,

W-O-R-L-D, backwards, please?

W...erm...

I went and got my Lion.

Sorry, did you just say lion?

News Of The World for my dad and the Lion for me.

Right, so that's a comic.

What year is it?

She always keeps one back for me. Mrs Mattingley.

That's very kind of her. What does she call you?

Sonny. She calls me Sonny.

Have you got a plaster?

Yeah, I think I should take a look at that.

Just turn your head this way. Thank you.

Do you remember how you got those scratches on your neck?

Did someone attack you?

KNOCK AT DOOR

Sorry, excuse me. Come on in.

This exercise is called "mirroring".

It encourages empathy within the group and helps us to focus.

We do this with a partner. So, Niamh, would you mind?

OK.

Now, one of you takes the lead.

Better be you. I'm hopeless at leading.

Actually, that's not true. In the last exercise,

you commanded the floor!

-I second that.

-Really?

OK, so your movements need to be slow.

The idea is to allow your partner to follow them, not catch them out.

OK, when you're ready.

Notice Niamh is using her right arm, I'm using my left

because this is meant to be through a mirror.

You get the idea.

-I want a go.

-Of course. Everyone will get the opportunity to try it.

No, I meant with you.

OK...

-Ah, I see you've started.

-Ah, I see you've started.

-Actually, we're not mimicking speech.

-Actually, we're not mimicking speech.

-Alison, stop!

-Alison, stop!

Are you OK?

It was a joke!

Where's your sense of humour?

OK, everyone, carry on.

Is it me, or was that a TINY bit weird?

It was a joke.

Drama-therapy isn't about performing.

Why did you pick Mrs Doyle, then?

She's been showing off from the start.

She was confident enough to help me with the demonstration.

Not because you fancy her?

Absolutely not. Let's be clear on that.

Alison, many of us suffer from low self-esteem.

Do WE?

These sessions bring things to the surface, often unexpectedly.

Has that ever happened to you?

It's always a possibility.

But, as the therapist, I have to try and stay neutral.

What about today?

We should talk about you.

What you did in there seemed childlike.

There might be something in your childhood you need to look at.

Such as?

Well, we can't explore that now.

But if you think I can help, we could always book a session?

Book a session? Is that it?!

SHE SCOFFS

These look quite nasty. You can't remember how you got them?

No. What did the policeman want?

Er...

The car that you were driving has been reported stolen.

Wasn't me. I told you, I was at the paper shop.

So you have no idea how you ended up in the car?

I bought some pear drops as well. She'll tell you, Mrs Mattingley!

You don't remember stealing the car?

I didn't steal it, I just...

Where am I anyway? Who are you?

Oh, come on. Why are you lying to me?

Who are you trying to get away from?

You can't let whoever did this to you get away with it.

Tell the police what happened.

OK, fine. I'm going to tell them you're fit to be interviewed, then.

You mustn't do that!

Just tell them I've lost my memory!

No, sorry, I can't do that.

Please!

You've got to help me!

Are you OK?

Don't pretend you care.

I just wanted to see if I could help, is all.

It's so artificial.

All this caring and sharing

for people you wouldn't be seen dead with normally.

Thanks!

I meant me.

Why would you think that?

Well, would you? Everyone else thinks I'm weird.

No, they don't... Look, why don't we pair up for the next one?

I'd only cramp your style.

I don't have any style!

Easy to say, when you've got men throwing themselves at you.

As if!

Well, Doug's not interested, OK?

-Excuse me?

-So just back off!

Worth dying for, is it, your precious job?

-This is only going to make things worse for you.

-I don't care.

Look, someone is going to come in and check on us in a minute,

or I could shout and then all hell will break loose.

Which is a shame for you

-because I don't think you intend to actually hurt me.

-How do you know?

Because I see violent people all the time in this place.

And I don't think you're one of them.

You sure of that?

Yeah. In fact, I think you're probably a decent guy.

I am.

Any chance of a name, then?

Clive.

Clive, OK.

Would you like to tell me what happened, Clive?

Are you married, Doctor Clay?

No.

But used to be, eh? Me, too.

As from today.

What do you mean?

Margaret told me she was leaving me for another man.

Ten years younger than her.

How long have you been married?

It would have been our Golden Wedding next year.

How could she throw that away?

How could she?

She seems to believe we have a connection.

You know, years ago, I had a thing about Toyah.

Toyah Wilcox? You kept that quiet!

I was young!

Anyway, the point is, I once asked her for an autograph after a gig

and part of me was surprised that she didn't recognise me.

Because I felt I knew her so well...

You think that's the case with Alison?

She seems to have followed your career very closely.

Oh, no. I suggested she book a session with me.

Really?

I'd better mingle.

I've just had a really odd conversation with Alison.

Oh, you too?

I think she's left in a huff.

-RINGTONE:

-# Hey, I just met you and this is crazy... #

What's that?

# But here's my number... #

Ah, of course. That one.

Unwanted admirer?

My mother. I'll keep her in suspense.

Anyway, what's your ringtone?

Ring ring...

OK, everyone ready?

Objects can stimulate memories

and not just in memory-impaired patients.

This helped a young offender to remember his grandmother

brushing her hair.

It was a time he felt safe, secure and wanted.

Textures evoke feelings in us.

Perhaps they can coax someone who's been abused to trust again.

And we've all experienced how smells and sounds

can whisk us back to the moment we thought we had forgotten.

This takes me back to my dad and me

supporting our local team on a Saturday

not long before he died.

Netball on a freezing-cold morning.

My knees knocking together.

Praying that they wouldn't pass the ball to me,

because I am rubbish at all sports!

For me, a plastic whistle

my daughter found in a Christmas cracker.

She drove us mad, blowing it all day long...

I've been a good husband to her.

Anything she wanted, my hand went straight in my pocket.

I worshipped the ground she walked on, I really did.

Maybe she'll change her mind?

Would you forgive that sort of behaviour -

playing away behind your back?

I know it's hard, but that's a lot of years together.

People, when they get older, sometimes they panic.

They think there's not a lot of time left.

That's because there isn't.

You get to my age and you realise this is your lot.

That's kind of my point. Margaret probably feels that way too.

I know you're trying to help, but you don't understand!

OK, fair enough.

But that's why you got drunk and you stole a car

and you went a bit crazy, yeah?

A bit crazy.

That's about right.

You still haven't explained who attacked you.

Who do you think?

I suppose the next stage is to interpret the memory.

Absolutely. Any thoughts, anyone?

Yeah. I hate being in competitive situations.

And I think the netball thing is showing me that.

And you've realised your daughter gets on your nerves?

No, not at all.

It's just that she lives with her mum now

and I miss seeing her every day.

Oh, my heart bleeds.

Alison, that's harsh.

Imagine how SHE must feel.

She probably thinks blowing that whistle drove you away.

-We should move on.

-Fine by me.

This is my object.

My dad gave it to my mum.

I'm not sure it's the appropriate time for this, Alison.

He bought it to celebrate my birth.

My mum was so proud because all the other women on the ward

got flowers if they were lucky.

What's your interpretation of that memory?

Obviously, you were very much wanted.

Not only that, he was a bit of a celebrity.

And, so he signed autographs for everyone.

It was the happiest day of my mum's life.

Little did she know it would be downhill from then on.

Perhaps you should leave it there.

Why?

It's just getting interesting! Because a few weeks later

you moved to America.

You said you'd send for us when you got settled.

We'd be living in Hollywood

and driving down the boulevard in a Cadillac.

This is total fantasy.

Alison, Doug is not your father.

Really?

Or does he need his memory stimulated?

Take a closer look.

You lying hypocrite!

Please believe me. I'm not your father.

You recognised this. I could see it in your face.

Yes...I've seen one... very much like it.

-Doug, are you all right?

-You can drop dead for all I care!

You deserve it. You killed my mother.

Doug.

Niamh, there's no pulse.

Someone call an ambulance!

Niamh. Niamh!

ABC - Airways, Breathing, Circulation...

People don't always want to admit to domestic abuse.

Especially if they're blokes.

That's not it.

Well, it looks to me as if she meant to hurt you.

Why would she do that?

She was defending herself.

She was defending herself?

I walk in and she's packing her bags.

I'm begging her not to go

and she's telling me how I'm old before my time...

and boring...

and she just can't stick any more of me...

..and then...

I've...

put my hands around her neck.

She's had one of those French manicures.

And I'm thinking what a waste of money.

What a waste...!

HE SOBS

Well, that was a close call.

What have they said?

Not a lot. They've been running tests.

Alison, I'm not sure this is a good time.

-I am his daughter!

-It's OK, Ollie.

We have unfinished business.

Even so, at least wait.

I can't wait, Ollie. I need to speak to her.

For my own peace of mind.

Just remember his condition.

We'll just be outside.

He's under close observation.

-If she kicks off, they'll have her out of there anyway.

-Yeah.

Look, um...

Niamh,

this may not be the best time...

Sounds ominous.

No, not at all... At least, I hope not.

I just wondered if...

Oh. Can you hang on one second?

-I want to see if I can find anything out.

-Um...

Right.

-Grab a chair.

-I'm not staying.

I only came back to make sure you were alive.

Well, it's a start.

Not that I care either way.

I just...needed to know.

I bought that pendant for a woman called Sandra. Sandra Steele.

-Is she your mum?

-You know she is.

Was.

Can't believe she's dead.

How did it happen?

-Overdose.

-I'm so sorry.

They said it was accidental,

like she was some sort of hopeless junkie.

It was your fault.

How could you abandon us like that? What kind of man are you?

Alison, please.

I used to have this dream that I'd come out of school one day

and you'd be waiting for me.

My film-star dad.

And finally, finally, all the other kids would believe me.

-Alison...

-When I heard you came back, I waited for you to get in touch.

But you didn't.

I felt sure some paternal instinct would kick in as soon as you saw me.

-Pathetic, isn't it...

-Please.

-..how much faith I still had in you...?

Please, let me try to explain!

In spite of all the Christmases you forgot...

..all the birthdays you've ignored...

A cheap little card would have done!

Signed, "love, Dad."

I don't even know when your birthday is!

You've forgotten!

Just tell me what date you were born.

17th of September, 1993.

OK.

So...Sandra and I went out together for a couple of months.

We split in December '92, just before I went to the States.

We parted as friends, or so I thought.

You're trying to say you're not my dad.

No, I'm telling you I MIGHT be.

But I didn't abandon you, because I didn't know you existed.

My mum wouldn't lie.

We'd watch the video and she'd tell me how you were coming home.

And that everything would be OK.

I'm telling you the truth. On my life.

I never heard from her again.

Why would she let me believe you'd abandoned me?

She loved me, she wouldn't be that cruel!

This makes no sense to me either.

But you and I have to deal with the here and now.

Don't pretend this isn't the worst news you've ever had.

The most astonishing, certainly, but not the worst!

-You mean that?

-Of course.

When I get out of here we'll do a DNA test, we'll sort it out.

You still can't accept you're my dad?

We both have to find out for sure, don't we?

If I'm not your dad, then the real one is out there somewhere

and I'll help you with that.

If I am, then you and I have got a lot of catching up to do.

Sorry.

He's got ischaemic heart disease.

The chest pains he thought were indigestion were actually angina.

But with the right treatment he'll be OK.

-Good.

-I've got to get back to work.

Oh, right. You go ahead. I'd better hang around here a bit longer.

OK. Bye, then.

Bye.

Actually...Niamh...

Yes?

I'm divorced,

as you know.

And, uh...

..I'd like to start dating again.

Oh, you should. You definitely should.

Oh...

you mean, with me?

Well...yes.

Is that too horrifying a prospect?

No. It's just ...

Oh, you're seeing someone.

Of course, bound to be. Sorry. I should have realised!

No, I'm not. Honestly, I'm not.

And it sounds like fun.

I'd love to.

Oh!

Great.

What about dinner, then? Savoureux's?

THE Savoureux's?

-Are there two?

-Not that I know of!

Right...

I'll call you, then, shall I?

Brilliant. I'll look forward to it.

You're, um... going to need my number.

So I will.

See ya.

Very soon, I hope.

Aren't you the least bit bothered

that I'm going to be spending the next couple of days in a hotel?

With Toni?

I couldn't care less.

Have you got a hot date or something?

I do actually. He's picking me up from work.

Hi, it's me. Sorry I haven't caught you in.

I love you and I'll speak to you in a bit.